


Interruptus

by Solemini (CyanHorne)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Gen, Humor, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyanHorne/pseuds/Solemini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Whatever the rest of Vox Machina expects or later claims, it’s Cassandra who first learns the truth and here’s how."</p>
<p>Or, why a lady should always remember to knock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interruptus

Whatever the rest of Vox Machina expects or later claims, it’s Cassandra who first learns the truth and here’s how. 

The Company-That-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned to Whitestone to recuperate for a few days from the dragons, or the Feywild, or the Outer Realms, or whatever the hell they’ve gotten into this time, and for once there have been no shape-shifting fiendish infiltrators or clan of criminal assassins sent to make their lives difficult.

An hour or so after dinner, Cassandra goes in search of her brother with a handful of notes from the last Council meeting. He may have left her in charge, but Percy is still the proper Lord while she is seneschal, and it’s only right to bring a few things to his attention in the brief time they might have him home.

Finding his workshop empty, for once, leads to a trek up to the bedrooms and her brother’s chamber door, through which she hears the muffled sounds of movement on the other side. She knocks twice, then lets herself in without waiting, eyes skimming the thick parchment of a document in need of his approval. “Percy, so long as you’re here, Keeper Yennen wanted to know…”

The question dies on her lips as she finally lifts her gaze and takes in the room.

There is Percival, her brother, sprawled across his childhood bed with limbs and hair splayed, shirt open to the navel and glasses hanging askew. He stares at her, aghast and upside-down, the fire-red blush of his cheeks bleeding pink down a taut throat, due either to embarrassment or the half-dressed half-elf straddling his waist. For a split second Cassandra thinks it’s the male twin. But, no, with the way that brassiere fits it’s _definitely_ Vex’ahlia, frozen like a bear caught in mid-savage with her long hair undone and Percy’s lapel clenched in her teeth.

The document slips from Cassandra’s hand, sliding to the floor with a heavy parchment _thwap_. Her mind whirrs to process the reality of the scene as she stands there, two steps from the door, stock-still.

Still upside-down, still sprawling, Percy clears his throat.

“Cassandra.” All things considered, he’s maintaining a remarkable calm, with only a slight waver in his voice and the tiniest crack at the end of her name. Vesper would be proud. “Do you need me _right_ now? Is it important?”

And somehow that’s what breaks her. Despite all her childhood lessons on decorum and diplomacy, Cassandra devolves into the very worst thing she could do at that moment.

She _laughs_.

Full-bodied, shoulders shaking, arms on her stomach, it all bubbles out with more ferocity than she’s felt in years, swiftly rising from a giggle to a roar until it’s all she can do to stay on her feet.

Because this is _Percival_ , her gangly nerd of an older brother who never quite grew into his limbs. Percival, who could dance like a prince with any of his sisters but stumbled over nothing when asked by visiting nobles. Percival, who hid in his workshop and behind the shield of birth order, jealously guarding his every teenage crush, forever confident that romance was chief among the skills he would never have to learn.

And yet _here he is_ , looking for all the world like the debauched heroines from Whitney’s favorite romances, those sheltered human nobles with their dark family secrets swooning for the charms of dashing elven rogues and _oh_ , that thought makes it all _even better._

As Cassandra doubles over, Vex’ahlia starts to snicker along despite her blush nearly matching Percy’s. The man of the hour groans and rolls over, dislodging his giggling – ahem – _rider_ in favor of snatching a fallen pillow from the chamber floor.

“Cassie!” Red as a beat yet still in possession of pinpoint aim, he flings the cushion at his sister and hits her square in the face. A flurry of feathers joins her documents on the floor. “Get. Out!”

Cassandra obliges, abandoning her notes and stumbling back into the hall. The door swings shut behind her, leaving her blissfully alone in her hysterics with only the raven on the nearby windowsill to observe.

Later, much later, her brother will come find her with his cheeks dusted pink. Later, he’ll return her notes and explain in clipped whispers the complications that could arise in their group – particularly between him and Vax – if his “recently redefined” relationship with Vex is exposed. Later, he’ll ramble on about prudence and discretion how they’re not _ashamed_ , they just want to take things on their own time even if everyone already suspects.

And Cassandra will listen and reassure him and keep his secrets because he is, after all, her brother. And if she starts to notice that they’re less restrained in their affections around her and feels a surge of warmth to once more, even by accident, hold her sibling’s trust then…well. That’s her own business.

For now though, she slides down the corridor wall to sit on the floor and laugh until tears run down her face, because this, this _stupid_ thing, after vampires and rakshasas and dragons and nightmares, is the most normal, most familial moment she’s had to herself in over five years.


End file.
